


What We Learn From Games

by ScarabKnight



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: All Flirting Is Awkward, Awkward Flirting, Chess Metaphors, F/M, Games, It's The Smuggler, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24116551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarabKnight/pseuds/ScarabKnight
Summary: Akaavi attempts to learn more about her new captain by challenging him to dejarik, and discovers more than she thought.
Relationships: Smuggler/Akaavi Spar
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	What We Learn From Games

The wooden board made a loud clatter as I dropped it onto the counter in the ship’s kitchen. The captain, preparing a drink, jumped slightly at the noise, his hand twitching to the blaster pistol holstered at his side before registering my presence and relaxing. It is perhaps more gratifying than it should be to see that he both remains on guard even amidst allies, an admirable trait in a warrior, and that he seemed to regard me as one of those allies, at least enough to not draw his weapon. For all that I believe my time aboard this vessel is limited, it is still nice to be trusted.

He turns to me with a lopsided grin, drink held lazily in one hand. “Akaavi. Any particular reason for that, or did you just want to see your ol’ captain scared out of his wits?”

His response, as with many since I’ve joined his crew, confuses me. His instinct was not fear, but alertness, a readiness for combat. Among my people it would be a trait worthy of respect. Yet he downplays his own ability with a joke, a dismissal of himself. I do not understand his motives for this concealment, why he insists on hiding himself.

Which, of course, is the point of unearthing the board.

“It is a dejarik board, captain. I would like to challenge you to a game.”

I watch his reaction carefully, something my father taught me to do – how someone reacts to a challenge of any sort can give you vital information on how they will conduct themselves in the contest itself. Bravado usually leads to needlessly aggressive behaviour, and will react badly to any stymieing of that, reluctance speaks to a defensive mindset and the need for early aggression to prevent the shoring up of defences, and so on.

The captain's face lights up, a wide sincere smile spreading across his face. “You play? For real? Great! I tried to teach Corso how, but he couldn’t get his head wrapped around it. And the less said about Bowdaar’s attempts, the better. Droid arms are hard to weld back on. It’ll be good to play against someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“So, you accept my challenge?” I reply, setting up the pieces as I attempted to read him. Excitement is, frustratingly, the harder reaction to analyse. It may mean carelessness on the board, or reasonable confidence, but it is more likely to be what it appears to be, a desire to engage win or lose. It didn’t help that a small but insistent part of my thoughts was wondering why Risha wasn’t on the captain’s list of players. Ah well. I shall simply have to rely on my skill to win and learn more of this man.

“Gladly! Prepare to lose, Akaavi!” The captain smirked, sitting himself down across from me on our miniature battlefield.

I scoffed. “You may have some tricks, captain, but you won’t defeat a Mandalorian in any contest”, moving my first pawn to begin the game.

We remained silent for the first few moves, moving our pieces across the board to enact our strategies. Or at least, I was. The captain’s moves seemed disjointed, random, placing pieces in odd positions across the board, spreading them out with no discernible pattern. It was… disappointing. I had hoped that the captain’s actions outside battle were not as uncoordinated as they appeared, that there was some method at play, but as with his conduct on our “business”, his moves on the board were mere chaos, taking losses for no reason I could see.

Perhaps I had nothing to learn after all, and he was merely a gifted shot and lucky man. A shame.

“I didn’t know you could do anything other than train, fight and brood,” the captain remarked, breaking the silence as he moved a piece. “Do Mandalorians approve of games that don’t involve violence?” His tone was teasing, but the inquiry was genuine, I think.

I shrugged. “It is not universal amongst the clans. Some hold that games like dejarik are a waste of time that could be spent on more practical pursuits. Others, that such things help cultivate a mindset useful in battle. Clan Spar is… was one of those. As clan champion, I was expected to be proficient at the game.”

“Did it work?”

I nodded. “The lens it provides was useful whenever I had to lead our forces into battle.”

“Well, well,” the captain smiled at me. “Brawn, brains and beauty. You really are the complete package, aren’t you, Akaavi?”

Another of the captain’s usual tactics. Attempting to charm the opposition into making mistakes. When we first met on Balmorra, he acted similarly, presumably attempting to keep me off balance. I kept my face impassive and ignored the feeling his comment made in my stomach, moving my pieces for a decisive strike on his left flank. His sporadic movements had left it particularly vulnerable.

“If I am so faultless a warrior, perhaps you should turn your command over to me?” I retorted, trying to play the captain at his own game. In truth, I had little interesting in running this ship, but if there was one thing I was certain of, it was that the captain loved his ship.

The captain flashed me an assured grin as he placed a piece with finality. “Hey, if you want to be responsible for this group of sarcastic misfits, be my guest. But they might not want to follow a leader that falls into traps so easily. Checkmate, by the way.”

What.

I stared at the board. He was right. My king was caught in a web of overlapping attacks from his pieces. The pieces I thought had been haphazardly moved around, and some _had,_ no doubt, as distractions and sacrifices, were in a perfect position for his last move to beat me.

“Good game, though!” he cheered, draining his drink. “You played well, we should do this again.”

The captain rose, raising his glass in a gesture of respect, and left, in greater spirits than he had entered. I was left looking at the board, contemplating.

I had hoped to reveal the captain’s true self, as only battle can, stripped of his false boasting and front of imbecility. Dejarik wasn’t a true battle, of course, but it was difficult to hide who you were from a trained eye when playing, and my father had made sure I was nothing if not trained. For the captain to so deceive me and my instincts, and leave me still with more questions than answers…

Perhaps there was more to him than I thought.

And if the same small corner of my mind from before was insistent that this meant the captain hadn’t had an ulterior motive for complimenting me, I tried to ignore it.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 3 reasons:  
> 1) I had some minor writers block on another fic and wrote this to clear my head after getting back into SW:TOR. As a result this will likely update sporadically.  
> 2) When I was playing the Smuggler's storyline, I called a few of the twists and how the Smuggler might use them to his advantage, so I thought hey, why not pass that down to the character.  
> 3) Mandalorian lady pretty.


End file.
